


True Colors

by justbecauseyoubelievesomething



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellarke January Joy, Best friend's brother, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Football | Soccer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:35:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22219390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justbecauseyoubelievesomething/pseuds/justbecauseyoubelievesomething
Summary: When Clarke Griffin agreed to cover for her best friend and take over coaching her rec league soccer team, she never suspected she was agreeing to deal with rival coach Bellamy Blake. Maybe he's really the world's biggest jerk. Maybe he's just trying to get on her nerves. Maybe she's falling for him. Whatever the case, it's shaping up to be the most interesting soccer season of Clarke's life.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 8
Kudos: 94
Collections: Bellarke January Joy 2020





	True Colors

It all started when Octavia’s godmother, Indra, fell and broke her arm in the middle of the fall soccer season. With her daughter Gaia somewhere on the other side of the world finishing her foreign exchange program, it fell to Octavia to go stay with Indra for a few weeks and help her get around the house. Of course, this happened at the same time that Niylah, the assistant coach, was called home to the other side of the country for her father’s funeral. So naturally, when Octavia came practically crawling into their apartment, begging for Clarke’s help, she wasn’t going to say no. Besides, how hard was it really to coach a few games of little league soccer?

Clarke hoisted her duffle bag off of her shoulder and onto the damp grass with a slight grunt. The morning dew was just beginning to burn off and it was promising to be a clear and sunny morning. Beside her, Madi took a long swig from her water bottle.

“Save some for the game, kid,” Clarke chuckled at her foster-daughter. Madi just scrunched her nose up at her and purposefully took another long drink.

“It’s not like we don’t have extra water,” she sassed.

Clarke beckoned her over and gathered her long brown hair into a tight ponytail.

“Now, I know this might be weird for you,” she started, but Madi quickly cut her off.

“Relax, Clarke. I never acted weird around Octavia or Niylah and they’re practically my second moms. I’m not going to play any differently just because you’re sitting over here instead of over there.” She tilted her head towards the other side of the field where two sets of rusty metal bleachers sat, waiting for parents and onlookers to perch on the precarious seats.

Clarke tugged firmly on the handful of hair she’d swept up and Madi straightened her head with a small “ouch”. She tied off the ponytail quickly and patted her daughter on the shoulder.

“Alright then, why don’t you prove it to me and go set up some warm up cones for us before the other girls get here.”

Madi side-eyed her. “Seriously?”

Clarke winked at her and Madi groaned, dragging her feet as she made her way to the heavy equipment bag.

Clarke put her hands on her hips and went back to surveying the field. With their own home field flooded and closed for probably the rest of the season, they would be playing on unfamiliar territory, even while hosting games. As she scanned the area, her gaze landed on two figures walking towards them from the parking lot, one of them hauling a familiarly-shaped equipment bag.

Clarke put on a smile as she approached who she could only assume were the rival coaches, but as they drew closer she had to keep her jaw from dropping.

“Bellamy?”

Bellamy Blake’s own eyes widened as he hefted his bag to the ground effortlessly. “Clarke? You’re Octavia’s replacement?”

“I’m… what are you doing here?”

His assistant, who Clarke now recognized as John Murphy, rolled his eyes.

“We’re here to coach our team. As if the bag of soccer equipment wasn’t enough of a giveaway.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Clarke snapped, politeness forgotten in her surprise.

Bellamy crossed his arms and smirked at her. “Well, well. A little touchy aren’t we? What’s the matter, Clarke? Nervous?”

Murphy snorted.

“No!” Clarke swallowed guiltily, her “no” having come out a bit louder than she’d meant it to. “No,” she said calmer this time. “I was just surprised Octavia didn’t tell me that you were coaching a team this year. She made it sound like you were done with that.”

Bellamy shrugged. “Nothing better to do, I guess.”

Murphy snorted again and Bellamy reached over and shoved him.

Clarke folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at their antics.

“Anyways,” Bellamy coughed. “Go set up our warm up stuff, Murphy.”

As Murphy jogged to the other side of the field with a stack of cones, Bellamy sidled a few steps closer to Clarke with a knowing smile.

“So you couldn’t say no either, huh?”

“She’s my best friend. I wanted to help her out,” Clarke huffed. Bellamy’s smile fell a little and he took a step back.

“Okay fine, Princess. Be all high and mighty,” he scoffed.

Clarke turned on her heel and marched back to her own bench, not deigning to answer him.

As girls and their families began to trickle onto the field, Clarke got swept up in the normal bustle of helping kids tie their cleats, adjust their shin pads, and make sure their hair was kept out of their eyes. It wasn’t until Madi tugged at her sleeve to whisper in her ear that she realized that there was a glaring problem with their arrangement.

Bellamy gave her another one of his infuriating smirks as she stomped back up to him. “What can I do for you today, Princess?”

Clarke ground her molars together, knowing that losing her composure now with an audience would be embarrassing to no end.

“Would you please tell your girls to switch their jerseys?” she bit out. “You’ve got the wrong color on.”

Bellamy blinked a few times and looked out over his bustling group of girls who were just starting on warm-ups, their jerseys the same dark green as Clarke’s team. “Well, would you look at that,” he said.

Clarke tapped her heel harshly into the grass a few times. “Well?”

Bellamy slowly turned back to her and gave her an exaggerated shrug. “Well?”

Clarke stepped right up to Bellamy, nose to nose. “Change your jerseys, Bellamy. My team is home team. It says so on the schedule.”

Bellamy’s eyebrow twitched upward slightly. “Oh really? It says on my schedule that we’re home team.”

“That’s ridiculous! We’re not even in Arkadia!”

“Our field was closed for the season. Some idiot drove their car right through it after homecoming and tore it up pretty badly,” Bellamy said, crossing his arms.

“Well our field is currently underwater,” Clarke spat.

“Looks like one of us will have to budge,” Bellamy said, raising his eyebrow again. “What do you say, Princess?”

Clarke growled under her breath. “I was here first.”

“Wow, so mature,” Murphy called over his shoulder.

Clarke took a few deep breaths, letting her clenched fists drop to her sides. Bellamy continued to smirk at her, his added inches of height making her feel smaller than she liked.

“Uh-oh, is Princess going to lose her cool?” he teased. “Should I call the royal butler?”

“Shut up,” Clarke ground out, cheeks flaming red. “I don’t even care about this. Use whatever color you want.”

She spun and stormed back to her team, trying to ignore Murphy’s taunting laugh behind her.

Unfortunately, the jerseys weren’t convenient reversible kinds. Fortunately, Clarke found several extras buried in the equipment bag. Unfortunately, they all smelled like old cleats and hardly any of them fit correctly.

Madi tugged at the too-big white jersey and grimaced. “Seriously?”

“Seriously,” Clarke muttered, not taking her eyes off of Bellamy. He was directing the girls on his own team with ease, not looking bothered at all by the trouble he’d put them through. He bent over to put his hand on one girl’s shoulder, looking in her in the eye as he used the other hand to point out towards certain spots on the field, seemingly explaining a series of maneuvers to her. The girl nodded earnestly before running back out to her teammates. As Bellamy stood back up he noticed Clarke’s stare and winked at her again. Clarke bit her lip so hard she could taste blood.

It was so on.

Octavia called after the originally planned two weeks had passed and apologetically explained that Indra’s injuries were worse than they’d thought and that she was facing surgery and she could really use the moral and physical support from Octavia. Clarke reassured her best friend that everything was fine and yes, she could definitely keep coaching the girls for the remainder of the season. No problem.

When she hung up, Madi was looked up from her position were she was sprawled on the floor in front of the tv. “I thought you were getting tired of butting heads with Bellamy.”

Clarke flung herself wearily onto the couch. “I am, but I’m not going to worry Octavia with that right now. Besides, I’m a big girl. I can handle one jerk of an older brother on my own.”

Madi ducked her head and mumbled something to herself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She turned her head back to Clarke, flashing her a cheesy grin.

Clarke threw a couch cushion at her half-heartedly and Madi easily rolled out of the way.

“If you’re trying to start something you shouldn’t, you’re going to catch these hands, missy,” Clarke said darkly.

Madi only laughed and threw the cushion back in her face.

The weird field closings and several schedule reshuffles due to weather forced Arkadia and Polis to meet back up three more times over the course of the next three weeks. Clarke was exasperated to no end.

Bellamy and Murphy made a point of showing up to their shared “home” field extra early now, always grinning smugly when Clarke and Madi showed up. Clarke was pretty sure she had permanent indentations in her palms from where her nails dug in every time she clenched her fists. However, she kept her mouth shut (most of the time). The girls knew by now to bring their away jerseys, so at least they didn’t have to endure the putrid leftovers from the storage bag. Clarke made a mental note to ask Octavia if they could scrounge up some extra money in the budget for new jerseys, preferably reversible. At least that would solve one part of her problem.

The other part wasn’t as easily dealt with, as evidenced by the fact that he was giving her his trademark smirk from across the field. Worse was the way his freckles were even more prominent in the sunlight as he paced up and down the sideline yelling directions and encouragements at his kids. Not to mention, the way Clarke’s traitorous heart seemed to beat a little faster every time she watched him take a knee in order to talk to his girls face to face.

She’d given up shooting death glares at Madi whenever she started whispering and giggling to the other girls during Clarke and Bellamy’s arguments. It was hard to shoot her down when the exact same thoughts were creeping through her brain almost daily now.

Why did Octavia’s brother have to be so attractive?

Other than her wildly fluctuating feelings were Bellamy Blake was concerned, the rest of the season actually went very well. The girls were a stellar team in their rec circuit and as the last week of regular season games were finishing up, Clarke was notified that they’d qualified for the end of season tourney. Madi was nearly bouncing off the walls in excitement as they pulled up the website to see the official bracket.

“This is going to be awesome!” she squealed in Clarke’s ear. “We’ve never had a chance to win the trophy before! Plus, I’m pretty sure Arkadia got in too!”

“Why would you care about that?” Clarke asked, rubbing her ear.

“I don’t, but I thought you would,” Madi chanted singsong.

Clarke tsked and shook her head, but she was holding her breath as she scanned the bracket, eyes finally lighting on Arkadia’s name on the opposite end of the bracket.

There was that traitorous heartbeat again.

“At least we’ll finally have official refs to decide home field advantage,” she muttered to herself. Madi was already too busy texting the other girls, doubtless gossiping about Clarke and Bellamy’s supposed relationship.

Clarke shook her head, trying to dispel images of that freckled smirk drawing closer and closer to her face. The season was almost over. One more day. Easy enough.

The tournament was a hustle and bustle that kept Clarke’s mind almost entirely occupied with her girls. They worked their way up steadily through the bracket as the day wore on, cheered on by screaming parents and a substitute coach who cheered until her throat was ragged. Madi was especially in rare form, usually carrying the most points of the game.

Clarke only had time to glance at the opposing side of the bracket layout once, during a brief jaunt to the concession stand for a withered hot dog that she could only hope hadn’t been sitting out since that morning. Her heart thumped a little harder as she noted Arkadia steadily climbing the ranks as well.

Maybe it was fate drawing them together to face off once and for all.

She laughed at herself and choked down the hot dog before she could get too carried away, but Bellamy and his tenacious team stayed lodged in the back of her head right up to the afternoon championship game when they were forced to the forefront. After all, she had been right, they were facing off.

As Clarke approached the middle of the field, Bellamy gave her his familiar grin, the one that made her insides turn to water.

“Ready, Princess?”

“More than you know,” she said calmly.

The coin toss seemed to go in slow motion, the silver quarter flipping five times before the ref caught it easily and smacked it over on his other hand.

“Heads. Polis has home advantage.”

Sweet, sweet vindication.

Clarke was pretty sure her smile could have leveled a thousand insolent Bellamys.

“Too bad, Blake.”

If her voice was a little more smug than professional, she felt like she had earned it.

Bellamy smiled at her in a way that didn’t reach his eyes and Clarke’s breath caught in her throat.

“Good luck, Griffin,” he said before turning and marching quickly back to his girls, hands stuffed almost too casually in his pockets.

Clarke let her hands go limp at her sides, the air taken out of her victory.

Where was the fire, the barbed insults, the carefully crafted banter that always danced on that precarious line between enemy and flirting?

She felt hollow and more than a little immature. Not sure what she’d been expecting.

Suddenly she turned on her heel and stalked towards Bellamy’s bench. Maybe it was immature. But after everything he’d put her through all season, she was going to savor this.

Murphy must have seen the sparks in her eyes because he waved towards the bathrooms without protest. “He went that way.”

Clarke stormed forward, feeling like she was leaving a burning path through the grass. She was going to strangle that insolent boy. All the teasing and bickering and egging her on and it was… nothing? She didn’t know what she expected it to be. But not nothing.

She rounded the outhouses, muttering quietly to herself, but pulled up short at the low sound of Bellamy’s voice just around the corner. He hadn’t seen her yet and she edged closer, wondering who he was whispering to.

“I’m sorry, Charlotte. I really can’t do anything about this time, honey.”

“Mr. Blake… I… I can’t wear it.” The girlish voice was on the verge of tears.

Bellamy sighed deeply. “I’m not going to make you, sweetie. I promise. If you want to sit this one out, I understand. I want you to be comfortable.”

There was a long pause punctuated by a few sniffles.

“I want to play. It’s the last game. I want to be with my team,” the girl said slowly.

“Only if you really feel okay,” Bellamy said softly. “And you can tell me the minute you need to leave the field. Okay?”

“Okay.”

There was another long stretch of silence and Clarke finally cautiously peered around the corner. A blonde girl was jogging slowly back towards the fields, but Bellamy was standing in the shadow of the building, arms crossed and face dark with thought. Clarke stumbled and Bellamy jumped, eyes going straight to her.

“Princess?”

She swallowed, crossing her arms and trying to regain her composure. “So you’re telling me that you tormented me and my girls all season because one of your girls doesn’t like to wear white?”

Bellamy’s eyes went through a storm of emotions, finally settling on cold indifference.

“Charlotte is self-conscious. Our white jerseys are hardly more than transparent and she’s… well she hit puberty well before the other girls. She’s just scared.”

“Oh.” Clarke suddenly felt like a jerk. The biggest jerk in the world.

“Stop spying on me, Griffin,” he bit out, brushing past her.

Clarke felt her heart sink to her toes. She had to fix this.

Minutes before the game started, the ref pulled Bellamy aside to hold a whispered conference. Clarke tried not to watch, fidgeting with the clipboard in her hands instead. Still, she caught the surprised look that Bellamy shot her way and she couldn’t help the small smile that slid across her lips.

Madi jogged up beside her as she watched the Arkadians hurriedly change into their dark green jerseys.

“Seriously?”

Clarke bit back a smile. “Sorry, kid. I don’t know how he keeps pulling it off.”

When she met Madi’s eyes, she knew her daughter didn’t believe her one bit. And she felt warm enough inside that she really didn’t mind.

It was a high-scoring game and it was incredibly close. The teams were almost exactly evenly matched and it really came down to Madi’s winning goal in the final few seconds. The Polis team ran screaming onto the field to mob the dark-haired girl and hoist their new trophy high in the air. Clarke screamed so much she was sure her voice would be gone for several weeks.

It was almost an hour later, after finally disentangling herself from the crowd of parents and getting most of the equipment cleaned up that she heard him behind her.

“Hey, Princess.”

She turned around a little apprehensively, but he was smiling gratefully.

“Good game.”

She smiled, flicking a stray hair behind her ear. “You too. Those girls are incredible.”

“Yeah, they are.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “It was a good season, huh?”

“Yeah…” She laughed a little thinking back over the endless bickering. “Even with… everything.”

Bellamy quirked an eyebrow at her with all his old cockiness. “You’re being incredibly vague. Can you elaborate on this everything?”

She smacked his arm, but there was no anger behind it. “You know! All of… you!”

“Me, huh?” There was suddenly a heat behind his gaze and Clarke felt a blush dip down her throat and along her collarbone.

“I didn’t know you cared so much about me, Princess,” Bellamy murmured stepping closer. They were incredibly close.

Clarke looked up, searching his face for the joke, but there was none this time. Just Bellamy and his warm eyes threatening to swallow her whole.

She steadied herself against his arm. “And what if I did?” she asked quietly. “What are you gonna do about it?”

She let the slight daring tone creep into the end of her question as she stared him down. Bellamy’s eyes brightened and the corner of his mouth quirked.

“How about I show you?”

His lips were warm and the way his hand tipped her chin back felt more natural than breathing. She could taste him, like sunshine and salt and sweetness all at once, and she wanted to keep drinking him in forever.

The moment was broken by a familiar and much exaggerated groan.

“Get a room!” Madi yelled, even though she was standing only a few feet away.

Clarke broke away from Bellamy with a little gasp, but she couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled up in her throat. Bellamy narrowed his eyes at her and then started laughing too.

Madi put her hands on her hips. “Oh yeah, and Octavia owes me twenty bucks. She thought it would take at least one more season before you guys got together.”

She flipped her pony-tail over her shoulder as Bellamy and Clarke gaped after her.

“Griffin, I think we’ve just been played,” Bellamy said calmly.

Clarke started giggling again. “By your sister and a twelve year old.”

Bellamy kissed her again. “I don’t even care.”

“Me neither.” They kissed again. And again.

Octavia bought the new jerseys after much coercion from her best friend and her brother.

“Geez, if I’d known you two would be this annoying together, I never would have tried to push you together,” she whined.

Bellamy and Clarke smiled at each other and Madi gave them a thumbs up from across the room and maybe next season would be very different, but if it was anything like this one, Clarke thought it would end up being pretty good.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Bellarke January Joy! Disclaimer: all vague soccer references are based solely on my own memory of playing rec soccer many many years ago and may not be accurate at all. Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment!


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